


His Own Story

by lamentingmidna



Category: Yu-Gi-Oh! Duel Monsters (Anime & Manga)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, M/M, Romance, Second-Hand Embarrassment
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-06
Updated: 2020-09-13
Packaged: 2021-03-06 21:27:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,727
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26315674
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lamentingmidna/pseuds/lamentingmidna
Summary: Ryou, the transfer student from England. He's staying in Japan while his father is away with his studies, and while his Japanese is alright, he much prefers English.Ryou, the emotional wreck. He's lonely, homesick, and constantly reminded how single he is, and how difficult it is to make friends.Ryou, the bane of his own existence. When it comes to a guy called Mariku, he can't seem to do anything right.Ryou, the writer. He's working on a story, and it just might be good enough to see through until its finished.*Rated Teen for language and mentioned sex (not explicit)
Relationships: Bakura Ryou/Yami Marik, Yami Bakura/Marik Ishtar
Kudos: 11





	1. On the Metro

**Author's Note:**

> *Title and description still being worked out.
> 
> Hey gang. I've got a vague idea of a plot, but I just wanted to get this draft out here and start something new. So uh, hey :) I'm (low-key) gonna make this up as I go along, so bear with me. Also, school and COVID...so please be patient with me.
> 
> Let me know what you guys think of this~

Ryou carried his book close to his chest, forcing him to use the side of his body to push open the door.

His mind drifted along as he dragged his feet across the pavement. He thought about dogs. He saw a lot of them while he was out, watching a woman walk her golden retriever. He saw another guy with a corgi, and he frowned. Corgis were the Queen's dogs, now he felt homesick all over again.

The homesickness was not a desired feeling; any distraction would do. Everywhere he looked---the grey city buildings, the metro, the smell of smoke, the busy streets---he was reminded of London again and again. He wanted to curl up in bed, close his eyes, pretend he was still there. He missed his old school, the familiar blocks and shops, the routinely stroll down to the library with a warm beverage.

He pulled his scarf to his nose, the cold not quite the same as it was up north. Ryou hugged his book tighter to his chest as he boarded the Metro, in order to get to his makeshift home.

His nose buried in the book he read. Fortunately, he found an empty seat, the subway rather vacant at this time of day. Picking up where he left off, he was soon enveloped in a love story that he wanted for himself.

_He snakes his arm around my shoulders. I smile at him; he smiles at me. And it's good._

The metro came to a stop after some time, letting passengers on and off. Ryou glanced up at the blinking lights overhead, seeing that it wasn't his stop. He returned to his book.

_He kisses me, his soft, warm lips pressed to mine. I'm smiling again. I just can't help it._

A cluster of civilians boarded the bus, taking up seats until a few people had to stand. Someone sat next to Ryou, making him shift so that he wouldn't take up any more room. He didn't look up from his book—he was in no search of a conversation.

_His hands glide up my shirt, my bare back in his hold. I want to stay like this forever._

Ryou could tell that the two lovers were probably going to take their encounter a little further. He didn't mind these sort of scenes in books, but his face went red at the thought of someone looking over his shoulder and seeing what he was reading.

_His body presses into mine, his skin feels hot and his build is firm. My insides are sparking up; my breathing grows heavy—_

_Alright, that's enough_ , he thought, putting in the bookmark. He glanced up and around to see if anyone was reading it too.

Out of the corner of his eye, he made out the shape of someone at his side. A man sat slumped in the seat. Earbud cords trailed down his shirt and into his jacket pocket. Ryou assumed he was sleeping, which gave him enough confidence to turn his head for a better look.

He knew it was rude to stare, but he couldn't help but observe him; there was so much to take in, one glance wasn't enough— his complexion made Ryou think of how his mum used to do her coffee, after the cream and sugar. His skin was smooth and clear, no blemishes that he could see. And the structure of his face, Ryou thought of a towering oak tree, its branches firm and prominent, like his nose, his cheekbones, his jawline. So strong, so defined. His hair color like sand, like the sandboxes Ryou played in as a child. He'd scoop it into his hands, let it pour through his fingers. The grains were so soft, and so fine...

Ryou couldn't find his breath. "Wow..." he whispered.

The man's eye opened, glaring right at him.

Ryou's heart plummeted.

The man spat, "Can you not?"

Ryou shrank into himself, curling back to his own seat and turning his head back so fast he heard his neck crack a little. "I..." he didn't know what to say. He didn't know how to explain himself. "I'm sorry, I didn't..."

"Didn't what? Didn't mean to?"

The awe that Ryou felt was lost, a spell broken from the moment that man's gravelly voice spit poison. He felt his cheeks growing hot. "I'm sorry."

"You're only sorry that you got caught," the man snarled, getting right up in his face. "Not all of us can be like you."

Ryou thrust open his book and pretended to read for a few painful seconds, hoping that if he just ignored this guy then he could be left alone.

"That's it? You're not...?" The man's anger was reduced to a simmer, but he was still boiling. With no fight to be had, he put a lid on it and turned away.

Granted, Ryou deserved it, but it wasn't as though he had any ill intentions. Oh well, no need to pursue the case any further.

_Our eyes meet again. He breathes onto my neck, whispering things I don't hear over my heart pounding in my ears._

Ryou didn't know what else to do but read on.

"Hmm..." the sound sprouted from his stomach, seeded by discomfort and a slight buzz. It wasn't very loud, but to him he might as well have yelled it.

He glanced around again, now seeing that the guy next to him was glancing back. Even with his glare, his eyes were a soft night sky that followed a sunset.

Embarrassed, he looked down again at his book, trying to put the vision of this young couple growing more and more intimate out of his head, and the really cute guy sitting next to him didn't help the sparks inside his own belly. Ryou wished he hadn't pissed him off, otherwise he would work up the courage for a conversation.

He thought about looking out the window, but he knew all his thoughts would be on that guy and how he really shouldn't have stared. What was he thinking?

 _Maybe I can skim this section_ , Ryou thought. He wanted to progress in the story, but he could not sit and read the socially accepted porn until he was home. Not to mention, he had already projected himself onto the main character prior to this scene. Although she was a girl, Ryou could relate to her curious nature and lust of adventure. She was shy, like him. Introverted, like him. But this sudden craving of physical intimacy with another human being was something Ryou had never experienced firsthand. With other books he could distance himself, making him the uncomfortable third wheel to the couples of most stories. But this? He felt strange, a warm—no, hot—buzzing in his stomach that he couldn't explain. He felt frozen in his spot, as any movement would alter this feeling that he kind of...liked?

How long has his leg been touching mine? Ryou thought, glancing over at the man's knee pressed to his. This so-called 'man spreading' was not something Ryou felt was a genuine issue, especially right now. His mind wandered some, thinking of their legs rubbing together. Friction of their skin setting off every nerve in his body...

Ryou's face turned even redder when he realized what he'd been thinking. This man he'd never met. This man he'd made angry. This man with delicious skin and a build Ryou wanted to feel under his hands and lips. This man he had. Never. Met. Before.

Ryou looked down at himself and had to use his book to cover himself, pulling his jacket down. What? What???

I can't read this anymore. I have to get home, right now. Ryou looked up as the bus came to a stop again, pleading and praying that this was and wasn't his stop. He needed to go home and curl up in bed and hate himself for his sudden, immoral lust, but he wanted to apologize properly for his misbehavior and leave this really hot guy with a better impression.

It wasn't his stop, so it had to be a sign, right?

Ryou took it as one.

He closed his book and his eyes to take a deep breath. He had no confidence or any defense for himself, but he had to try.

Ryou tapped the man's shoulder. "Excuse me?"

The man's nose scrunched up with disdain, a scowl across his mouth. "What?"

"I...I don't want you to get the wrong idea," Ryou blurted, his hands clutching his book for dear life. "I wasn't staring to be rude. I..." I think you're wonderful. "...I thought I...recognized you."

There was some sort of smirk that pulled the corner of his mouth. "You really think that lying is going to make me not hate you?"

"No, no! I'm not lying!" he lied. Well, technically, he wasn't lying. He did draw connections with this man to the bloke that Bakura kept bringing over again and again. He didn't mind all too much, but he saw him all the time. He only now saw a resemblance. "I thought you were someone I knew, but I was wrong. My apologies."

"You think I haven't heard that excuse before? You didn't even try to be creative." The man huffed, shifting down into his seat even further. He reached for his hood and pulled it over his head. "You already apologized, so—leave me alone."

Ryou's guilt bubbled up inside of him, fumbling with his heart and panging his chest. "People stare at you often?"

"I thought I told you to leave me alone."

"I know, I know, but—"

"Young lady," a woman across the aisle rose her voice at Ryou. "He told you to leave him alone."

Ryou spluttered a moment, wanting to defend himself against her claim and reprimand her for getting in his business. But she was right.

The man sneered at him.

Ryou shrunk back into his chair, thinking about how to fix this. Normally he could forgive himself, knowing that he tried. At this point he was making the wrong moves back and forth, trying to wipe up a spill that only spread and worsened. It may have been a sign not to push the issue any further.

No refuge in his book and too much shame to let his eyes wander the bus, he looked out the window at the passing buildings. He wanted to be home. He wanted to fix this. He wanted a reset button.

The inevitable stop arrived and Ryou stood, hiding his face in his hair and praying that he had a cookie or something he could guilty munch on at home.

He stepped past the man as hurriedly as possible, only to have an arm grab his leg.

"Wait, holy shit!" he eyed Ryou suspiciously, then let out a haughty laugh. "You're a guy!"

"Excuse me!" Ryou struggled to free himself from his grip, feeling exposed and embarrassed. "This is my stop—I have to go!"

When he let go, Ryou squirmed through the passengers and stepped off the bus, only to find the man in pursuit.

He clenched his teeth, clutched his book and turned around once he hit the pavement. "Is this coincidentally your stop?"

"You have a dick?!"

Ryou flushed, shushing him. "Not so loud!" Then he whispered, "Of course I do. What's it to you?"

"I thought you were some fuckin', like, Tumblr chick. You know...white hair, baggy shirt. Emo."

"Oh, when you observe people, it's okay?"

The man's euphoria from his discovery had died down. His lips pursed in disdain. "An idiot could notice those things. At least I didn't stare you down like a fucking creep."

"I'm not a creep!" Ryou said, though his conscious begged to differ. Now that they were standing face to face, Ryou got a better look at his broad shoulders, his upper build, his jawline... "And I already told you, I didn't mean to stare."

They both stood a moment, Ryou waiting for him to respond. The man glanced down Ryou's body, stopped at a fixed point, then met his eyes again. A cocky grin spread on his cheeks, he snickered as he watched Ryou implode.

"No!" More flustered, he covered himself with his book. "This has nothing to do with you!"

"It doesn't? Do you get off on creeping people out?"

Ryou pulled his jacket down further and flipped through his book to his current page and offered it to him. "Here. Does this clarify it for you?"

The man snatched it from his hands and stared down at the words, a quizzical look on his face coupled with a biting of his lip. Something troubled him about the words, and Ryou stared with bated breath.

He shoved it back into Ryou's hands. "I can't read this."

Ryou raised a brow and looked down again, a guilty and embarrassed blush painting his cheeks in rosy pinks. He thought this man's reaction was an attempt to put Ryou below him, until he suddenly realized that the book was in English.

He flushed again, not sure how to fix that kind of mistake. Was he going to have to be blunt about it? "It's a..." Humiliation kept the words from coming out. 'Romance novel' would suffice, but wouldn't explain his unfortunate erection. "It's...hard to explain." Ryou couldn't meet his eyes, but he was too stiff to leave. "I can assure you this doesn't happen all the time."

He leaned in closer, getting all up in his face. "Your excuses only get worse."

"I don't know what you want me to say."

"I want the truth."

"It is the truth!"

"Then why don't I believe you?" he spat, stepping forward. As expected, Ryou shrank beneath him. "Why is it always that people like you never seem to get it? You can lie through all the shit you want, but you're all the same. Every single one of you thinks it's not your fault, that you all are just better than everyone else!" He scrunched up his face. "Get the fuck over yourself."

"Since when were you were beneath me?" Ryou said, raising his voice. "That's quite the conclusion to jump to, don't you think?"

"It's not something I pulled out of my ass, you know. You are not the first guy who's stared me down on some public transit because of..." he gestured to his face with his hand in one big circle. "...all this."

Ryou finally looked at his face, and what he was talking about. When he stared closer, he could make out veins that curled and twisted along his face, like wispy clouds over the moon. "Oh."

"Oh? Yeah, 'oh'. You fucking prick."

"No," Ryou asserted himself for the billionth time. "I meant 'oh', because I understand where you're coming from."

"Yeah? You can suddenly see? Wow." He laughed. "It's a Ra-damn miracle—I didn't know Jesus was back."

Ryou shifted his weight awkwardly. "That's not what this is about, though. I didn't notice it that much, not until you pointed it out."

"That's your worst lie so far."

Ryou then said, "You know what I think the problem is?"

"That you suck at lying?"

"No; it's that you've probably been victimized so much that you can't differentiate between an attack and a genuine misunderstanding."

The man's eyes widened, disbelief stricken across his face. "Excuse me?"

"You heard what I said, and I think it's true." Ryou crossed his arms. "Your reaction proves my point, too. I merely made an observation and for some reason it's insulting."

"It is insulting!"

"Why?"

"Because...!" he stood for a moment, the momentum of his case brought to a screeching halt. Ryou watched his face fall, the wrinkle in every scrunched corner had flattened. Ryou wondered if this is what he looked like when he was at a loss for words, himself. "...because..."

Ryou patiently waited for his reply. "I want to know, I do. Tell me so I can apologize properly."

"Shut up!" he said. "Just...leave me alone!"

"Uh, you followed me out here, sir."

"Don't call me 'sir'. Don't...don't say anything else."

Ryou nodded, giving him space.

They both stood at the bus stop, passersby simply passing by. No one seemed to really notice the two just standing there, arguing about the damnedest little thing.

The young man shoved his hands into his empty pockets. He watched Ryou's eyes—he wasn't going to let Ryou off the hook so easily, was he?

"You keep patronizing me," he said, finally. His words came out mumbled, likely having made it up, just to have a reason at all. "Who the fuck are you?"

Ryou offered his hand. "I'm Ryou—or, Bakura Ryou." He winced, but tried to smile it off. "I'm not—I'm from England. Japanese is not my first language...if that wasn't obvious."

The man stared at his hand. "You're wearing mittens."

"I am."

Reluctant, and still kind of angry, he took his mittened-hand into his bare one. "Mariku."

"Hello, Mariku." Ryou offered him a smile he knew he wouldn't receive in return. "I'm sorry for staring at you on the metro, and I'm sorry for patronizing you."

"Thank you." Their handshake was brief but Mariku's hand still felt it after it was over. Somehow, someway, despite a mere difference in wording—or was it the approach?—this apology was better. But now he had all this pent up anger he didn't know where to place. 

He decided to change the topic, and a sinister grin formed on his lips. "So, about your..."

"Oh, would you look at the time!" Ryou's face reddened once more as he feigned having a wristwatch, his nervous laugh turning into clearing his throat and then into coughing. "I have to get home. Let's discuss this later—better yet, let's forget about this, yeah?"

Mariku started laughing, the gravel of his voice now fine grains of sand.

Ryou turned on his heels and started walking away before he could feel any warmer inside.

_Ah, thank Ra that's over._


	2. Instant-Noodles Kind of Mood

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey pals! It's almost 2 am and I really want Instant Ramen. ;-;

Plowing through the rest of the scene in his book was a nightmare, especially since the author decided they would describe it in _tremendous_ detail. Ryou was glad he stopped on that train.

Being the socially awkward introvert he was, he couldn't stop himself from overthinking the metro incident, how he could have played the scenario differently. No wonder he came off as rude, staring down a poor bloke who was just trying to get some rest…

Ryou rolled in his bed, reaching for his phone. It was nearly 7pm, so he figured he should make himself something to eat.

He wasn’t going to cook. Not only was he without the motivation, he felt like he was “cheating”—cooking involved potatoes and sausages, and his fun home foods that he loved and missed dearly.

Papa made it clear; Ryou needed to adapt. And if that meant a cup of cheap noodles, then so be it.

He tied his hair back into a loose ponytail before filling his kettle and setting it on top of the stove, twisting the little knob until the gas hissed and made a clicking sound. The fire lit up. Ryou sighed through his nose.

He wished he could focus on his own characters, for a change. He’d meant to read this new book for inspiration to write at all, but he got himself wrapped up in it, and he wasn’t sure he could write his own story until he was done with this one.

Ryou wasn’t sure he wanted to finish this book, anymore. He’d already associated it with his humiliation—not to mention, the sex scene was quite vulgar and Ryou was not an avid sex scene reader.

He hated how that book made him feel.

 _I need this day to be over,_ Ryou thought, pouring the boiling water into his cup of noodles and sealed it, tilting his head back away from the steam. _I need to think about anything else._

The knock on the door was merely a warning. The door flung open, hitting the wall hard and denting it with the handle.

Ryou jumped, nearly burning himself.

"Ryou? Are you home?" Bakura's voice was scratchier today, his actual vocal tone hardly present. He sounded tired.

“Yeah."

"Come settle this, then—"

"There's nothing to settle!" The nasally, witch-like voice of Bakura’s beau (they’re technically not ‘together’) rang through the doorway. Marik was not so bad of a person, but his voice didn't fit him at all. "Ryou, don't bother yourself. We all know I'm right."

Ryou chewed on his lip. "I really don't want to get involved..."

"Don't." Marik said. "There's nothing to discuss.”

Bakura shot, “Of course there is, you bloody _tart_.”

Bakura and Marik took their argument to the kitchen, leaving Ryou out in the open and subject to the crossfire.

Bakura wore his usual knitted brow, as well as pursed lip and his irritated demeanor. His features were sharp, and sharpened even more when he was angry. Right now, Bakura was a set of knives.

Marik rolled his eyes. “You don’t have to have a problem with it.”

“Of course I do," Bakura said, putting his trench coat onto the barstool chair. "You wouldn't have to pay for it."

"Oh, screw the money! We're looking at something fun and decorative. For all of us!"   
Marik's sounded whiny. Ryou wondered if he was doing it on purpose.

"All of us, yeah right. _You_ would use it…once. Forget it's there. And soon we'll be throwing it out. We might as well set my money on fire."

Ryou glanced at his noodles, hoping some form of time travel power would awaken in him. He hadn’t decided if he was going to use them to cook the noodles faster or end the day already by the time he was beckoned.

"Ryou!" Marik whined, deciding to get him involved after all. "If we bought a Christmas tree, you would use it, right?"

Bakura shot at Ryou, ”Don't answer that."

"Let him answer! He lives here too, so it's only fair—"

"He just got here.” Bakura turned to Ryou. "You wouldn't be willing to take charge of upkeep, right?"

"Ryou!" Marik pelted. "Yes or no. Tree or no tree?"

Soon the tension warped into impatient silence. A sack of rocks sank in Ryou’s stomach, weighing him down. He couldn’t move his legs, or else he’d run.

  
"I used to have a tree back home, but I was never in charge of it. So I don't understand tree-upkeep."

"HA!" Bakura grinned. "See? I told you—"

"NOT a yes or no, Fluffy." Marik’s eyes twinkled as he pleaded with his little puppy-dog face.

Ryou heaved a sigh. "A tree would be kind of nice to have around...especially for the upcoming holiday..."

"HA!" Marik pointed a finger right in Bakura's face. "That's what—"

"Ryou, you traitor!" Bakura frowned.

"He's smart. Like me." Marik said. "Two out of three. We're getting a tree."

Bakura began grumbling to himself, something about money and ornaments and upkeep. Mostly about him being the only responsible one of the three.

Ryou almost laughed.

"Aw...is Fluffy upset?" Marik cooed at his kinda-boyfriend, leaning into his side and resting his chin on his shoulder. He used a silly voice to mock him. " _I wanna do tings my way. All de time."_

Bakura pouted. "I don't talk like that."

" _Yesh you do. All de time_."

"I do not."

" _All de time._ "

Bakura couldn't be angry when Marik like this; he was just so stupid and dumb and it was the funniest thing in the world. He tried not to smile—he really did.   
"Shut up."

"Make me?"

That was Ryou's cue to go. He grabbed his cup of noodles and a fork, zipping out of the kitchen before he was exposed to another couple getting too intimate for his comfort.

He shut the door as fast as he could, still unable to escape the icky kissing noises from the kitchen. Locking the door didn't help, not that he thought it would. But he did, and his eyes wandered to that book again. It sat on his bed, tormenting him with its pastel cover and aesthetic photograph of an envelope, sealed by a wax stamp.

Ryou knew a good way to pass the time.

He sat as his desk, pulling open the wooden drawer—the sound of the friction of the wood and the rustling of old papers did some good to drown out whatever Marik and Bakura were doing.   
Ryou clicked a pen and whisked out a sheet of paper.

_Dear Amane,_

He stopped and leaned back in his chair, slurping up his noodles. He wondered what to tell her—he refused to let her know anything was wrong. Ryou forbade himself from writing to her about how incredibly homesick he felt, or how he wished there were at least some school courses in English or for English speakers...

Regardless, he thrummed his fingers on his desk.

The walls weren't sound proof. Ryou winced.  
"Tunes, then," he opened his phone hurriedly. "And I might need my earbuds..."

YouTube offered a "Lofi Chillhop study/reading beats". Ryou pressed play, and finally muted out the world with a steady percussion.

He picked up his pen.

 _I'm having Instant Ramen again, today. Shame me for my sodium intake all you want, but it's the only thing I'm used to eating that_ sort of _resembles a traditional Japanese meal._  
 _I won't lie to you, I daydream about Bangers and Mash, or fish and chips. I've never felt more British in my life—and I'm not even there anymore! ._

Another door closed in the apartment. No doubt it was to Bakura's room.

_Also, I got bullied into letting Marik get us a Christmas tree. Well, technically Bakura’s getting it, being the one with money and all._

_That reminds me, I ought to be looking for work. I mean, I’m mostly here, reading or writing or doing homework, and then I’m in class. I think a job would be good, at least for my own expenses…_

_Sorry, I got sidetracked._

_I know I said I was bullied, but I didn’t entirely mind._

Ryou did mind, but there was no way he was going to tell her that.

_I can’t remember the last time I really celebrated Christmas. Papa remembers gifts, but he’s working. I know he cares a lot about me, so I’m not going to try and bother him._

_I don't think it'll be all that bad if we get a fake tree, but Marik and Bakura started snogging before I could get much of a word in._   
_At least they're happy._

_Anyways, I hope you're doing alright. As for me, I'm keeping to myself and staying out of troub_

Ryou stopped.   
_No...I haven't,_ he thought, _Have I?_

He scratched out that last bit.

_You'd laugh at the fool I made of myself, today! On the bus, I was reading the book Mum used to read when we were at school. (I am…starting to realize why. I’ll spare you the details.)_

_Out of nowhere comes this bloke, and he sits beside me. I don't notice him at first, but eventually I looked up._  
 _I can't even begin to explain how ~~handsome~~_ ~~ _stunning_~~ _beautiful_ _he was._  
 _I mean, he had this face I could stare at forever..._  
 _And stare I did! I felt terrible afterwards...when I got caught. He didn't like that very much._

_But I couldn't help it! On top of the lovey-dovey book and the way he looked without even trying..._

_We settled it, though. But I made a real mess of myself. I never even got his number..._

Ryou wasn't sure if he could ever live that down. Maybe it was better this way.

_I got sidetracked again!_

_I apologize for my letters being all over the place, especially since everything's in a twist and I have so much to say._

_I'll write to you again soon. Tell Mum that I love her._   
_And I love you too, of course!_

_Sincerely,_   
_Ryou_

Content, he folded the paper and slipped it into an envelope. After sealing it, he slid open his desk drawer and placed the letter along the many others.


End file.
